The Beginning of the End (formerly: We, The Glorious Dead)
by SilentElla
Summary: Daryl and Nola unexpectedly find themselves together as they try to understand and survive a new epidemic that is sweeping through Georgia, and presumably the world. Rated M for language, violence, and sexuality.
1. Chapter 1 - Coffee

Nola saw Daryl park his beaten-up Ford pick-up truck outside the diner. She knew he'd probably take a seat on a stool, and then wait for her to bring his coffee as usual. Some of the waitresses at the diner didn't much care for Daryl, but that was probably because most of the time his methed-out brother would eventually show up to join him.

Daralee, the other waitress on shift, sidled up to Nola and nudged her. "Ding-dong, sweet-pea, looks like your favourite client 's here."

Nola rolled her eyes. Daralee was just a few months away from a well-deserved retirement and she was making the most of her last days here. Daralee saw the eyes Daryl made at Nola. Nola was a sweet girl, but she wasn't the most perceptive when it came to that sort of thing. Despite his family's reputation, Daralee liked Daryl and she wasn't intimidated by him like a lot of other people in the town. She saw through his gruff exterior. Her favourite game was trying to making him blush.

Daryl eased onto his usual stool at the diner. He spotted Nola finishing up at another table. She was the reason he came to this diner. He'd never had a conversation with her beyond placing his order; small talk wasn't his specialty. There was something about Nola that he couldn't get out of his head. Sure she was cute – he always saw the guys in here stare at her as she walked away – but it was her personality that captivated him. She remembered his name and the way he liked his coffee. When she asked how his day was, it was like she really cared about the answer.

Daryl was lost in his thoughts, staring blankly at the muted television. There was a news reporter standing in front of a hospital. They were reporting on some kind of new form of rabies. Rabid animals were easy enough to deal with – no reason this should be more difficult to deal with in people. He never paid much attention to the news. It was usually just the same story, but different people and different places.

Daryl's attention was abruptly snapped back to the present by Daralee's gravely voice. "Well good evenin' darlin', what can I get ya?"

"Just take a coffee," Daryl mumbled.

Daralee smiled. "Well now, I could get ya' that coffee, but then again you didn't say 'please'. You should know that I always insist on being treated like the fine southern lady that I know I am. I think I'm gonna be lettin' Nola get you that coffee."

She winked at Daryl as she bustled off and into the kitchen. Even though he didn't show it, Daryl definitely appreciated Daralee's sense of humour.

Nola had just finished settling the bill with her last table. She had seen Daralee talking to Daryl, but for whatever reason it didn't look like she had taken his order. Nola walked behind the counter stopping at the coffee station to pour Daryl a cup. She absent mindedly splashed a touch of milk in before sliding it in front of Daryl. The reports on the television were starting to worry her.

"Anything else I can get you today, Daryl?"

"Naw, thanks. Headin' home soon."

"You must love our coffee to just stop by for a cup."

"Best coffee in all Georgia," Daryl could hardly keep from sounding sarcastic as he said that. It was probably some of the _worst_ coffee in the whole United States.

"You been listenin' to the news? I wonder if there have been any of those rabies cases near us. It's startin' to sound pretty serious. They're talkin' about startin' up with the martial law – you know, curfews 'n stuff."

Daryl just shook his head. Nola hadn't expected much of an answer from Daryl – she rarely got more than a couple of words out of him. She leaned against the counter as Daryl sipped his coffee, trying to catch a little more of the news report.

Daralee re-appeared with a huge piece of key-lime pie. Daralee plunked it down in front of Daryl. "Here you go sug', this one's on the house. You just keep comin' back here – least 'till I'm retired. After that, I don't give a shit what you do." She turned to Nola, hands on her hips, and she sighed with faked exasperation, "Warm up the man's coffee Nola – you ain't _never_ gonna find a husband if ya' don't even know to serve pie with _hot_ coffee."

Nola smiled, "Are you sure you're not ready to retire today?"

Daralee just swatted at Nola's retreating behind with the rag she kept in her apron. "Girl, you're lucky it's the end of my shift, an' I need to be gettin' to my beauty sleep, otherwise I'd make you regret those words!"

Daralee removed her serving apron and smoothed her hand over her hair. She retrieved her purse from under the counter, and headed for the door. "You're alright to close up, Nola?"

"Yeah, shouldn't be a problem unless the Lone Ranger over here starts giving me trouble," Nola said nodding towards Daryl, the only customer left in the restaurant.

Daralee nodded to herself. _'My work here is done,'_ she thought. It was pitch black outside as she headed to her car that was parked right outside the door. She saw a shadowy figure on the other side of the parking lot. They were heading for the diner – there was an odd way about them. They staggered when they walked. But Daralee thought nothing of it; it wasn't exactly unusual to see a drunk in these parts.

"We're all closed up here. You might have some luck about ten minutes down the road closer to town," she called out helpfully. The shadowy figure continued to shuffle toward her. "Look here, I got pepper spray on my key chain, and I ain't gonna hesitate to use it!" Daralee said, aiming her pepper at the approaching figure. The figure was almost on top of her now, reaching for her with its arms. Daralee screamed and released her pepper spray at the figure's face. There was no reaction on the figure's part. The figures' hands had reached Daralee's arm. Its hands were cold, and its grip was firm. Without hesitation, it dragged Daralee's arm up into its maw, tearing into her flesh with its teeth.

Daryl and Nola heard Daralee's blood-curdling scream. Daryl was closest to the door, so he got there first. Daralee was shrieking, and kicking a man who seemed to be gnawing on her arm. Daryl grabbed on to the man's shirt with both hands, tearing him off Daralee and slamming him to the ground. The man seemed unfazed, quickly pushing himself back up and lunging toward Daryl, Daralee's blood still fresh on his lips. Daryl caught the man by the collar of his shirt with one hand and slammed his fist into the man's stomach. Other than a wheeze of air that escaped, the man seemed completely unaffected, and continued snapping his jaws hungrily at Daryl. Daryl kept on punching the man, to almost no effect. "What the _Hell_?" Daryl huffed. Nearly exhausted, Daryl slammed the man on the ground and cracked his head on the cement of the parking space. Finally, the man lay still.

Daryl turned to see Nola crouched over an unconscious Daralee. Nola was wrapping a towel around Daralee's wound.

"What do we do? I tried calling 911, but there was no answer!" Nola said tearfully.

"By the time they send someone, it'll be faster if I just drive. Move over," Daryl said as he crouched down, picking up Daralee's limp body.

With a few strides, he had reached his truck. His hands full he called out to Nola, "Key's in my right pocket."

She found the keys easily and fumbled to open the door. As Daryl gently slid Daralee into the truck, letting her body lean against the passenger said door, Nola questioned, "What-what about him?", indicating the unconscious man.

"He ain't our problem," Daryl regretted his words when he saw the look of horror in sweet Nola's eyes. "Jus' keep tryin' 911 on your cell while we're drivin'," Daryl amended. Nola nodded silently – Daralee was her priority too. She slid into the pick-up next, wrapping her arm around Daralee and shifting her body so that Daralee's head was resting on her shoulder. The truck's engine started with a rumble. Daryl flicked the head lights on, illuminating the man on the ground. He was moving. Nola stared back at the man in confusion as Daryl pulled out of the parking lot at top speed toward town. By the time she lost him from view he had pushed himself up to standing and had begun staggering after their retreating headlights_. 'What in the world was going on? _' she thought to herself. She rested her chin on Daralee's salt and pepper hair and prayed.

* * *

**Thank you for reading! I love comments/suggestions/high fives by either comment or PM. It's like little presents at the end of my day when I hear from you guys! XOXO**


	2. Chapter 2 - Lemon Cake

Daryl parked his truck outside of the emergency entrance. He deftly ran to the other side of the cab and retrieved Daralee as Nola slid out from the driver's side. With Daralee unconscious in his arms, he was surprised as an ambulance screeched to a halt, just inches away from him. The driver of the ambulance didn't acknowledge Daryl as he pushed past. Daryl was about to yell out some choice expletives, but he paused when he saw the man was clutching a wound on his side. _"What the Hell's goin' on?_" he thought to himself.

The scene at the small emergency room was chaotic. There were patients on stretchers lining the walls. One woman was shrieking at a deflated looking doctor, and a man sat silently on a chair, a wound on his leg dripping blood on to the floor. Every other chair In the waiting room was filled.

Nola led them to check-in. The receptionist looked frazzled and was whispering into her cell phone.

Impatient, Nola tapped on the glass, "Excuse me? We've got an emergency here! A man just bit my friend!"

The woman held up a pudgy finger authoritatively. Nola blinked in disbelief, speechless.

Daryl stepped forward, a dark look in his eyes, "I don't think you heard my friend here, but we're losin' a life here!"

The woman hissed a few final hurried words into her cell phone before finally turning her attention to the trio in front of her.

"Insurance card?" She asked with an irritated tone.

"I got a woman dyin' in my arms, and you're askin' me 'bout an insurance card?" Daryl bellowed.

"If she ain't got insurance, y'all gotta go to the state-funded hospital, ain't nothin' we can do for ya here."

Having lived her whole life without health insurance, Nola had prepared herself for this moment.

In a commanding tone she didn't quite recognize herself, she let the woman behind the glass know that _she_ knew her rights: "Ma'am, according to Emergency Medical Treatment Act passed by congress in November of 1986, this hospital is obliged by Federal law to provide stabilizing emergency medical care," nodding towards Daralee, "and my friend has lost a lot of blood. So unless you want me to call every news agency in the area, I suggest you do your job."

The woman behind the glass looked flabbergasted; it wasn't usual that the people in this sleepy area of the South quoted federal legislature at her.

Within minutes, a nurse's aide had wheeled out a gurney for Daralee. The towel that Nola had wrapped around the wound had slowed the bleeding, but Daralee was still unconscious and dangerously pale. As soon as Daryl had carefully deposited Daralee's limp body on the gurney, the aide started securing the restraints around her wrists and feet.

Daryl started to protest, "She just got attacked, she ain't optin' out or a danger or' –"

The attendant looked up wearily, "Look, it's house rules that anyone unconscious has to be restrained – no exceptions. They just made it a rule this morning."

Daryl grunted in acknowledgement, and turned to join Nola who was filling out Daralee's admission forms. As she handed them to the woman behind the glass, she felt the nurse's aid's hand tap her on the shoulder.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but you and your boyfriend should be getting' home. There's nothing you can do for your friend right now, and our waiting room is at capacity. We'll be sure to call you if there's a change in your friend's condition."

Nola was too distracted to correct the man on his use of the word _boyfriend_. Daryl heard it, and scowled, assuming the man was making a joke he didn't get.

They headed back to Daryl's truck in silence.

Shaking herself out of her daze, she addressed Daryl: "I'm so glad it was you there with us tonight. I hate to think what would have happened if you hadn't stopped in for that late night cup of coffee."

Daryl hid his smile by staring at the ground. He'd never been good at accepting praise, however well deserved it was. Changing the subject he said, "You shoulda' been a lawyer or somethin'. How'd you know all those dates 'n stuff? "

Nola blushed, "I uh . . . it's just something I've had to deal with before. I made up the part about it bein' in November, but the rest is true!"

Daryl jerked his head in acknowledgement. They reached his truck, still parked at the emergency entrance. "You uh . . . need a ride somewhere?" he offered.

Nola smiled, "Yeah, that would be great. I live pretty close to the diner. Is it too much out of your way?"

"Naw," Daryl lied. It _was_ most definitely out of his way. The diner was close to a thirty minute drive from where he stayed. There were other diners that were a lot closer to his place – all of them with better coffee than Nola's place.

The ride back toward the diner was silent, other than Nola's directions. Eventually, they arrived at a bungalow, with a small garden out front and a story-book white picket fence.

Noticing the lights were off, Daryl asked, "Is there anyone home for 'ya? Some weird shit's goin' on."

"No, I live alone," Nola said simply. She wasn't in the mood to get into why she lived alone.

Daryl could barely get his next question out – it wasn't usual for him, but he felt shy to ask, "What about a boyfriend? Maybe you want to give him a call so you ain't alone?"

Nola shook her head, "No boyfriend, but really, it's fine – don't worry about me!" Nola pushed the door of the truck open and slipped out.

Daryl shrugged.

As she was about to slam the door shut, a chill ran down her spine at the thought of the short walk from the truck to her front door.

"Um, actually, I know it's late, but would you want to come in for another cup of coffee?"

Daryl smiled to himself, turning his head to focus on the door handle to his truck so that Nola wouldn't see. He wasn't sure why he was smiling – there wasn't any point in getting his hopes up. The only reason they were here was because Daralee had been attacked, and the girl was probably feeling nervous. Even though he'd been happy to find out that she didn't have a boyfriend, ultimately it didn't make a difference to him. He could be the last guy on earth, and a sweet girl like Nola still wouldn't go for him.

Daryl followed Nola along the small path leading to her house. As she fumbled with her house keys, Nola apologised, "I wasn't expectin' company, so you'll have to excuse the dishes in the sink."

"S'fine," Daryl muttered, thinking of his own home. He would _never _take her there – she'd probably run screaming in the other direction.

"Let me give you a tour – and we can make sure there are no monsters hiding anywhere at the same time," Nola said in a joking tone. In truth, she had an uneasy feeling and making sure there was nothing out of the ordinary was more important than giving a tour.

The tour didn't take long. It was a small house with only one floor. As soon as she flipped on the light above her door, it was half over. She brought him through sitting room, and circled around to the kitchen, finally taking him down the only hallway to the bathroom, bedroom, and the small bedroom she'd turned into a craft room.

Nola showed Daryl the craft room and bedroom uneventfully, taking time to fling open the closets and peek behind the doors. With a grand final gesture, she finished the tour with the bathroom.

"So this concludes the tour, any questions?" She said, flinging her hand out and knocking a mop that had been leaning against the bathroom wall so that it clattered to the floor. Nola shrieked, and in her hurry to back out of the bathroom, she tripped over her feet, falling into Daryl's muscled chest.

Daryl caught her easily by her shoulders. He chuckled at the sheepish look on Nola's face. "Naw, I think I'm good," he said as he pushed her back up to standing.

"I guess I'm kind of jumpy. This whole day just has me freaked out," Nola said.

"Mhmm," Daryl agreed.

"What about that coffee?" Nola suggested, eager to change the subject.

Daryl seated himself at the kitchen table, sitting in front of the window, staring out at the garden as Nola prepared the coffee. As the coffee was set to dripping, she let out a little "Oh, yeah," and crossed to her counter and retrieved a lemon loaf she'd made earlier, plunking it down on the table with two plates and a knife.

"Can I make you a sandwhich or anything, Daryl? It's been a long night."

Daryl wasn't listening to her – he was focusing on a figure stumbling in the direction of the small house, illuminated by the full moon. The figure had the same gait as the one who'd attacked Daralee in the parking lot.

"Stay here and keep quiet!" He ordered Nola.

Daryl quickly crossed the floor to shut off the kitchen light, and continued over to shut off the light by the front door. Daryl returned to the darkened kitchen, where Nola was standing by the kitchen staring at the figure who was now stumbling up her walkway.

"You know him?" Daryl asked in a whisper.

"I don't think so," Nola said, squinting at the figure.

The figure reached the door, but instead of knocking, they heard a sort of scratching. They both moved toward the front door, and they could hear the figure on the other side taking long, slow, rattling breaths as it scratched on the door.

Nola retreated back down the hall, cell phone pressed to her ear as she dialed 9-1-1. Earlier this evening the when she had been trying to reach someone when Daralee was attacked, the phone just rang with no answer. This time, after one ring, a voice started talking:

"_A state of emergency has been declared in Georgia due to a recent outbreak of illness. Those infected may become aggressive. Please remain calm, and stay indoors, avoiding infected individuals. If you believe that you are infected, quarantine yourself, and help will come. This is a pre-recorded message."_

Nola swallowed thickly and hung up her phone. She looked at Daryl, "I don't think we should answer the door, and I think you should stay here for tonight."


	3. Chapter 3 - The Morning After

"What do we do?" Nola asked, terrified.

Daryl peered through a crack in the curtain at the man scratching at the door. "Ain't much to do," he sighed. Without meeting Nola's eyes, Daryl questioned, "Did you want to be alone? I'm pretty sure I can sneak pas—"

"No! I would feel a whole lot better if you stayed here tonight," Nola said firmly. "Unless there is somewhere you need to be?"

"Ain't nowhere I need to be," the words came easily to Daryl, even though as he said them he thought of his brother and father sitting in the run-down trailer they shared.

"I'll set up a bed in the back room for you," Nola said, relieved she wouldn't have to spend the night alone. She'd never been good about spending time alone, which was unfortunate, given that she was often alone.

The night passed without much incident. Neither Nola nor Daryl got much sleep, even after the scratching at the door had stopped. As the light of dawn peeked through Nola's chiffon curtains, she gladly rolled out of bed, rubbing the remnants of sleep from her eyes. She couldn't remember a longer night – including the torturous nights that preceded the Christmas mornings of her childhood.

Nola knocked gently on the door of her craft room. It stood half-open, but she hardly knew the man and wasn't about to barge in. "Daryl? You awake?" She heard a grunt from inside. Nola poked her head into the room to see Daryl sitting up on the daybed reading a book in the early morning light. As quickly as he saw her, he quickly tossed the book aside. "I was going to make some eggs. There's a towel set out in the bathroom for you if you want a shower." Daryl jerked his head in appreciation and muttered a barely audible, "Thanks."

Daryl watched Nola retreat to the kitchen. A hot shower would be a nice change – the water heater on his trailer had been busted for a couple of weeks, and he hadn't gotten around to (or rather, gotten the money together) to buy a new one. Daryl entered Nola's bathroom. There was potpourri in a small dish, and candles along the low windowsill above the tub. Everything matched – hand towels, face cloths, and towels for drying. Even the flowered shower curtain matched the bathmat.

When he caught a reflection of himself in the mirror, a dark cloud moved over Daryl's blue eyes. He looked so painfully out of place in Nola's perfect bathroom. With his cut off sleeves hanging out of his leather vest, his stained jeans and his messy hair, he was sure he would have confused the Hell out of anyone who walked in. He belonged in a trailer park – not in a house. He was being used. Nola would _never_ have looked at him twice if it hadn't been for what happened at the diner. She wasn't interested in him – as a friend and definitely never as something more. The décor of the bathroom made that clear. With a scowl, he wrenched open the hot water tap. He let it run until the hot water scalded his hand. He let out string of curses under his breath before adjusting the knobs and jumping into the shower.

Nola was humming to herself as she buzzed about the kitchen. She knew how Daryl liked his eggs from working at the diner. He'd only been in a couple of times for breakfast, but that was enough for her to remember. There was something about him – he wasn't conventionally good looking, and he didn't look like he had the greatest hygiene. He had a gruff exterior that was certainly difficult to penetrate. She knew he was a hunter though, and there was something irresistible about a man who didn't need to depend on anyone for anything.

The snap of her hair elastic breaking brought her back to reality. Frowning, she slid the eggs on to the plate next to some hash browns. Before absent mindedly turning stove off as she ran her free hand through her long dirty blond hair. She started down the hallway to her bathroom to get something to keep her hair up just as Daryl was coming out of the bathroom.

It was all she could do to supress a little gasp as her eyes fell on his nearly-naked body. He was had a ball of his clothing under one arm, while the other held the towel loosely around his hips. He had a few tattoos here and there, but what really caught her attention was his well-muscled physique. Nola shouldn't have been so surprised, as she'd felt how muscled he was when she'd fallen into him during her tour, but she'd never really thought about how he looked underneath his baggy clothing.

Trying to keep her eyes from appearing too wide, Nola said, "Breakfast is hot and ready when you are!" _Oh, dear Lord, did that sound like I was flirting with him?_ Nola thought to herself before she could stop the words coming out of her mouth. She heard Daryl mutter another, "Thanks," as she quickly turned and walked back towards the kitchen, her loose hair forgotten.

Nola returned to the kitchen, still rattled by the sight of Daryl. It had been a long time since she'd seen a man anywhere close to naked – _too_ long in fact. He must have a girlfriend or something – she'd had terrible luck with men. Her last relationship ended when a woman accosted her as she was leaving the diner screeching about her being a home-wrecker. It had turned out that Mitch – the guy she'd been with for almost 6 months had a wife and a 4 month old son. Nola was not about to go through _that_ again.

Nola absent-mindedly put toast into her toaster and pressed it down. Daryl seated himself at the table and unceremoniously started cramming the food into his mouth. "Coffee?" Nola questioned even as she was already pouring them two cups. "Mmf-thanks," Daryl managed to say, his mouth stuffed with the breakfast. Nola sat and started on her own plate, reaching for the toast as it popped from the toaster. She grabbed it gingerly, as she expected it to be hot, but her hand closed what was clearly still bread. Again, she pushed the toast down, waving her hand over the toaster to check for heat. She felt nothing. "I think the power's out," Nola said, as she flicked the kitchen to no response.

Daryl paused in his breakfast for a moment, "Somethin's up. What ya wanna do?"

Nola thought for a moment, "I'm going to call the Sherriff's department, see if they know what's going on." After pulling out her old yellow phone book – all her friends laughed at her for keeping it – she found the Sherriff's number and dialed it, putting her cell phone on speakerphone so Daryl could hear. Like when she had called 9-1-1 the previous night, there was nothing but a pre-recorded message playing:

"_Thank you for calling precinct 3456. Our offices are currently closed due to the temporary emergency declared by the state of Georgia. Please remain calm, and proceed to Atlanta, your nearest refugee site. Military personal will be available on-route to guide you. Have a nice day._"

"I don't have a car! Daryl, do you have room to take me to the refugee camp? Do you think I have time to pack a bag?" Nola stammered.

Normally, Daryl would have ignored the message to go to the refugee camp and just headed back to his trailer to ride out this so-called "emergency" that the local law enforcement was too pussy to deal with. Even though he resented Nola for using him – this time in a big way – something wouldn't let him refuse her request. "Get your stuff together – we'll leave in five."

Daryl remembered hearing bad things about refugee camps on the news – he didn't think what he'd heard was in the states, but he figured he'd be better off on his own than in some government-run camp. He'd make sure Nola got to the camp, and then he would be gone – he didn't need someone to look after. As an afterthought, Daryl called out to Nola, "Hey – you got any camping gear? Won't be surprised if this refugee camp ain't so well equipped if everyone's headin' there."

"I'll grab what I have," Nola answered distractedly. Daryl shrugged – she didn't look like much of the outdoor type anyways. He saw a couple of canvas bags tucked between the fridge and the counter. He pulled them out and started filling them with what remained in Nola's fridge and her cupboards. He wasn't worried – he could hunt whatever he needed to eat, but Nola would probably be able to use it.

Daryl rolled his eyes as he saw Nola lugging a massive suitcase behind her, with what was presumably a tent hung over one shoulder. Daryl held up his hand for her to stop and held his finger to his lips. After checking outside, he quietly opened the door. The man who had been scratching at the door was now slumped on Nola's porch. As soon as it saw Daryl, it lunged for him – but Daryl was faster. Without hesitation he gave it a solid kick to the head. "C'mon," Daryl nodded as he reached for Nola's oversized luggage. Nola ran for the truck and threw herself in the front seat. Daryl was slower as he lugged the massive suitcase behind him. "What the Hell ya got in here?" he huffed. Before he even closed his mouth he heard the thing from Nola's porch growl. Without thinking, Daryl swung Nola's suitcase, knocking the creature to the ground. As it scrambled to get up, Daryl threw the suitcase unceremoniously into the back of the truck as he ran to the other side to jump in. Nola was screaming as she scrambled to lock her door as the creature was clawing to get in. Daryl's truck rumbled to life and they took off, the creature stumbling after them.

Although he wasn't showing it, Daryl was rattled. Maybe this was serious. "You mind if we make a detour before headin' to Atlanta? I wanna pick up a couple things, check see if Merle and my Pa are 'round."

Although Nola just wanted to get to the refugee camp as quickly as possible, she didn't really have much of a choice at this point. "Yeah – of course."

* * *

**Hey y'all! My apologies for not updating lately. No excuses though, right? I don't like the title I chose for this Fic, so if you want to suggest one go ahead with a PM or comment. If I choose your title, you win a prize. I'll write you into this fic as a character. As always, please leave me a comment. Your comments are little gifts to me - they all brighten my day!**


	4. Chapter 4 - Meet the Family

Daryl and Nola drove in silence. Although the sun had almost completely risen, the grayness of dawn still hung in the sky. The roads were busy. Cars, trucks, and mobile homes flew along the small rural road heading toward Atlanta. Every so often, they would pass an abandoned car on the side of the road. The car would be fully packed, and left with a door or two flung open. A couple of times Daryl spotted blood smeared on the windows or the door handles. When he'd glanced at Nola to see if she had noticed, he found her eyes firmly fixed on the road directly ahead.

It wasn't long before they came on the small gravel road that led to Daryl's trailer. Despite the urgency of the circumstances, Daryl still felt a swell of embarrassment as the turned up the road. He'd known it the first time he'd seen Nola in the diner. When he'd been in her house it just confirmed that he wasn't her type. He thought of his Pa, probably sitting in his drawers, chewing tobacco. Then Merle would be there, either still drinking or sleeping off a hangover.

As Daryl's truck slowed, Nola's eyes settled on a dingy trailer set among a small clearing of trees. There were two windows; one was too filthy to see through and the other was covered with cardboard. A screen door hung loosely from a single hinge, the breeze causing it to bang gently against the doorframe.

"Wait here," Daryl muttered flatly as he swung out of his truck. Without waiting for Nola's response he slammed the truck door and strode toward the trailer. There wasn't much he needed to get – just his crossbow. Mostly, he was here to warn Merle and his Pa, Will Dixon, about what was happening. He planned to drop Nola off, and then head back to the trailer to drink until the government sorted this shit out.

As Daryl expected, the first thing he saw was his Pa, sitting in his drawers, a drink by his side.

"You know what's goin' on out there?" Daryl questioned warily as he crossed the small living room to pick up his crossbow hanging from the opposite wall. Will Dixon was a mean drunk. He was mean sober too.

Will jerked his head in acknowledgement, spitting chewing tobacco out of the side of his mouth.

"S'horseshit, son. Don't you listen to them! Jus' another one o' them government plans to make us all vote Democrat," Will drawled drunkenly.

"Ain't you been watchin' the news?" Daryl snapped. He was in no mood for his father's conspiracy theories. "I saw some of those people with the rabies they're talking about, and it ain't no government conspiracy!"

Will Dixon wasn't paying attention – his eyes had drifted to the TV that was playing an old VHS tape. "Damn TV signal's not workin'. If they think they can make 'ol Willy Dixon go out to some Democrat refugee camp by turnin' off my shows, they bet wrong!"

"Fine. I'll be back in bit," Daryl mumbled. He hated his father. He'd had a lousy childhood, and his father's temperament had not improved throughout the years. Daryl didn't know why, but he felt responsible for him somehow, even if his Pa had never been responsible for him.

Daryl's older brother Merle chose that moment to slouch out of the back room. "Where ya goin' baby brother?" Merle drawled, as he buckled his pants. "You ain't got no place to be but right here with your big brother Merle. I was thinkin' we go down to the lake hook us up some fish."

"I ain't got time now – ain't you heard what's goin' on? Am I the only one payin' any attention 'round here?" Daryl slung his crossbow over his shoulder and bent to pick up the spare bolts.

Merle was already peering through the grimy front window, "Now who's that in your truck? Is that where you were last night? That's good news, little brother, 'cause now you won't be tearin' up that 'ol Merle spent the night with your Marlene."

Daryl rolled his eyes. Marlene was a girl he'd slept with a few months back in a drunken haze. It had been a mistake for him, but she didn't see it that way. Marlene had been after him every way she knew how – showing up at his jobs, dropping in uninvited. Sometimes he'd come home to find his father dozed off in a chair and Marlene sitting at the kitchen table. Sleeping with Merle must be her attempt at revenge.

Daryl tried to change the subject, "Jus' stay here 'til I get back – I'm givin' her a ride to Atlanta. And watch out for those people with the rabies. It's some serious shit Merle."

"Government lies!" Will Dixon bellowed from his recliner, brandishing his glass of homemade moonshine.

"Shut-up Pa!" Daryl muttered.

Merle was still peering through the window, "Hey – isn't that the waitress you been lookin' all doe eyed for? What's her name now? She's a fine piece of ass, lil' brother. I just hope you screw this one up too so she'll come lookin' to Merle for some sweet comfort." Merle licked his thin lips at the thought. "Well, lookee here – looks like you've got competition!"

Daryl crossed the room quickly, loading a bolt into his bow as he walked. Sure enough, there were three figures shuffling toward the truck from behind, their mouths snapping and their arms outstretched. Nola was slumped in the front seat staring off into the distance, nodding her head to whatever music was coming from her ear buds. Daryl didn't hesitate this time – he raised his bow and strode forward.

"This is private property and y'all better get the hell outta here!" Daryl growled menacingly. Merle trailed behind him a bat in his hand. Rather than hesitating or slowing, the figures seemed to speed up.

"I warned you!" Daryl shouted as he fired a bolt into the closest one's leg. It hit the man with a thud. The man stumbled, but kept coming. "What the hell?" Daryl muttered as he loaded his next bolt as quickly as possible. Now only 10 feet away, Daryl fired straight into the man's chest. He kept coming, the bolt firmly lodged where his heart should have been. The man reached out his hand, grabbing Daryl's arm and drawing his maw toward Daryl's bicep. In one swift movement, Daryl drew his long hunting knife from its sheath on his belt and plunged it into the top of the man's head. He collapsed instantly. The other two were now closing in. Merle stepped forward drawing his bat bag ready to swing.

"Gotta be the brain!" Daryl yelled as he plunged his knife through the temple of the one while Merle cracked his bath over the other's head. Both fell to the ground instantly.

Nola was sitting the cab of the truck, mouth agape, horrified. Apparently unfazed, Merle sauntered up and knocked on the window. Still stunned, Nola slowly rolled it down.

"So Darylina finally made his move, huh sugar tits?"

Daryl ignored Merle – that was really the only way to deal with him. "You okay?" Daryl asked Nola.

Nola nodded cautiously, "Mmhmm."

Daryl continued, "We're gonna get outta –" a scream from inside the trailer cut him off. Daryl and Merle both ran back inside to find a woman straddling their father, a wound in his neck gushing bright red blood.

Merle cracked the woman over the head without a moment's hesitation laying her out on the floor. She gasped, clawing at him as he continued to beat her body.

Daryl knelt by his father, pressing his hand to staunch the flow of blood from the gaping wound in his father's neck. Will's watery, blood shot eyes met with Daryl's for a moment and then closed.

"What in the fuck's going on?" Merle sputtered as he looked up from the corpse he'd finally finished with.

"I uh know. Somethin' bad." Daryl decided he was going to need to take more than his bow. He quickly gathered his camping supplies: a tent, sleeping bag, some tins of beans and tuna he had lying around and a few clothes.

"You comin'?" Daryl questioned Merle.

"I ain't got nothin' better to do than to look after you little brother," Merle smirked as he sidled off to collect his things.

Daryl looked up to see Nola standing in the doorway of his filthy trailer. His father's body lay limp, pale, and covered in fresh blood on his recliner. The woman who had attacked him was barely recognizable on the floor.

"I uh, I thought I'd come in see if there was anything I could do to help?" Nola said timidly.

Daryl didn't like her in here. She didn't match the surroundings at all in her sundress and buttoned cardigan. He could see her eyes moving from the dead bodies to the chaw bucket beside his father's recliner, the stack of old Hustlers piled into a plastic basket in the shape of a woman's rear, the dishes overflowing from the sink, the empty boxes of fried chicken and pizza.

Nola picked her way through the living room carefully coming to stand beside Daryl, her back turned to Will Dixon's corpse.

"We gonna try to call someone?" Nola asked.

"Ain't no one to call – he's gone anyhow," Daryl shrugged.

"Who was that?" Nola persisted.

"S'my Pa," Daryl muttered.

Nola was stunned. She started, "Oh my God, I'm so sorry I just . . ."

They stood in silence, listening to Merle rustle around in the back room.

Suddenly, Nola screamed. A cold hand had clamped around her arm. Turning, she saw it was Will Dixon. His eyes had clouded over, empty. He was dragging her arm down into his mouth. Daryl moved quickly, wrenching his father's hand from Nola's arm.

"Pa?" Daryl yelled, "Pa?" But there was no reaction from the creature. It moved itself out of the chair, throwing Daryl to the ground and itself on top of him.

"Pa! What the hell! Pa, quit it!" Daryl yelled helplessly as he pushed the creature that had been his father away.

_Thunk. _

The body went limp, and Daryl kicked it off. Panting, he got up to find his brother standing over him, a grim expression on his face.

"Now's not the time to pussy-out Darylina," Merle advised.

Daryl shook his head, "Let's go."

Daryl and Merle headed toward the truck, but Nola stood frozen in place.

"You ain't gonna stay here are ya?" Daryl said to Nola. She didn't respond.

"C'mon, I got ya," he said more gently, reaching for her hand. His hand landed on her forearm and she flinched. Daryl quickly snatched his hand back, noticing he'd landed exactly where his father's handprint still showed. Eyes downcast, Nola trudged forward toward the truck.

* * *

**Hey y'all! I hope to be back for good now. If I'm honest, I was going through a rough time. Not to worry though, as I've found my inspiration (and energy again). Please comment and follow to let me know you're out there! XOXO - Ella.**


	5. Chapter 5 - Atlanta

Nola and Daryl rode in the truck while Merle followed on his motorcycle. As Merle was wheeling his motorcycle out from behind trailer, Nola had noticed the white swastika boldly stuck on frame. After seeing the home Merle had grown up in, the swastika wasn't surprising. Nola paused in her thoughts for a moment, wondering if Daryl thought the same way as his brother. She realized that she knew very little about this man. In fact, she knew more about Merle than about Daryl.

Daryl would come into the diner to have his coffee and rarely anything else. He would sit silently and alone on the same bar stool, usually fidgeting with something like a napkin, a rubber band, or a coin. Even when she had tried to engage him in conversation he would rarely say more than a few words. She assumed he hunted – who else would have a crossbow in their home? He drove a beaten up truck and lived in a trailer with his brother and father, so he obviously didn't have a lot of money. Nola had never asked what he did for work.

"What do you do for work?" Nola said, abruptly breaking the silence.

"Mmh?" Daryl pretended he hadn't heard her over the sounds of the country road. He rested his arm on the open window, bringing his hand up to rub his chin.

"What kind of work do you do?" Nola repeated.

"This and that," Daryl muttered evasively.

"Well I was just thinking I don't know anything about you. We've got a pretty long drive ahead of us to get to Atlanta," Nola suggested.

"And we gotta fill the air somehow, right?" Daryl said dismissively.

Daryl obviously wasn't much of a talker. Nola folded her arms and concentrated on watching the road ahead. They sat in near silence for a few minutes, until the empty light appeared next to the tank.

"So we gonna to stop for gas?" Nola asked, wondering if Daryl had missed the flashing light somehow.

"First chance we get," Dary said absent mindedly. He knew his truck, and he knew they could probably drive for at least another half hour before the tank really ran dry.

After about twenty minutes they found a small gas station. There were two cars sitting by the pumps. One car was silver and had a two women and a child in a car seat. The other car was red and two men were leaning casually against it. Daryl pulled his truck up to a free pump, only to find it locked down with a large pad lock.

"Ain't open yet – Al's probably sleeping in," drawled one of the men leaning against the red car.

"Time this place open up at?" Daryl asked.

Usually Al's around at 8, but he's probably sleeping off a bender so he's just running late.

Merle's motorcycle chugged to a stop beside Daryl's window.

Without saying anything, Merle swung off his bike, strode confidently to the back of Daryl's truck and grabbed a sledgehammer.

"Hey! What the hell you think you're doing?" One of the men cried as Merle swung the sledgehammer down on to the padlock. It was old and rusted, so it popped off neatly.

"Hey now, calm down, we'll let you have a share of the booty for a price," Merle said, delighted with the chaos he was creating.

"Hey now, Al's my friend, and I can't let you destroy his property," said the second, and well-muscled man. He and his friend advanced toward Merle menacingly. Merle backed up against the door to the small store, still holding the sledgehammer in his hand.

"Fuckin' Merle . . ." Daryl cursed. He shot a quick glance at Nola, "Stay in the truck!" he ordered. Daryl got out of his truck. _Typical_, Daryl thought to himself, _World's going to shit and Merle's having a great time_.

"Look, we ain't gonna steal the gas, but we all gotta get going. We'll leave money on the count-" as Daryl tried to inject some sense into the situation, Merle took the opportunity to smash the glass door to the store as Daryl spoke.

"Oh that is _it_," the larger man said, grabbing Merle by his vest.

"Ain't you gonna help me lil' brother?" Merle yelled as he struggled to free himself from the large man's grasp.

"Nope, you did this all on your own," Daryl said, anger in his voice.

Before anyone could react, Al's head appeared through the broken glass door, and sunk his teeth into the bare arms of the man holding Merle. The man screamed, dropping Merle as he crumpled to the floor. In a moment, Al was on top of the man who used to be his friend, mauling him. Screams erupted from the silver car containing the women as the car peeled out of the lot.

The other man was hollering, "Hey! Al! What the hell you doing man?"

Daryl was stunned for a moment, but started to remove his hunting knife from his belt. Before Daryl could react, Merle swung his sledgehammer into Al's skull. The body gasped and went limp. The man Al had mauled was already dead.

"Al here seems to have forgotten the first rule of customer service . . . always give the customer what they want!" Merle alone chortled at his joke. Merle then stepped over the bodies and headed into the store.

The man's friend had fallen to his knees, sobbing.

"Can you help me get his body in the car . . . I can't jus' leave him here. We were going to meet his family," the man sobbed.

Daryl thought of his father being bitten, seemingly dying, and then coming back. Maybe not everyone came back.

"Sometimes they come back," Daryl cautioned, "but as those things. Might not be a good idea to bring him anywhere."

"I don't care, I'll tie him up if I have to!" The man was steadfast.

"Alright," Daryl sighed. They secured the dead man's hands with bungee cords they'd found in a pile by the side of the store, and laid him in the back seat. The whole process took close to 10 minutes, and he hadn't come back yet. Maybe not everyone comes back.

As Daryl worked with the dead man's friend, Merle had cleaned out the register of cash and had brought several armfuls of cigarettes and gas station snacks and dumped them unceremoniously in the flat bed of the truck. Nola made herself useful by filling the truck and two jerry cans she'd found in the back with gas once Merle had turned on the gas inside.

"Good luck," Daryl gave a slight nod to the man he'd helped.

Tanks full of gas, and Merle in the lead this time, they continued on in silence.

"Should we have left some money for what we took?" Nola wondered aloud.

"Al didn't seem to mind, he got a pound of flesh," Daryl said plainly.

"I don't know, just feels wrong," Nola said.

"Want me to stop so you can walk back there, settle things up with Al?" Daryl asked testily. He felt like Nola was judging him.

"I guess it's special circumstances," Nola mumbled.

After a few hours, they passed a sign that said "Atlanta – 20 miles". Soon after, they came to a traffic jam that curled off into the distance as far as the eye could see. The sun was starting to get low in the sky, and cars were lazily joining the queue behind them.

Merle wheeled his bike back Daryl's window, "I'm gonna steal up ahead, see if I can't see anything." Merle drove away, along the shoulder of the highway and toward Atlanta.

"You wanna play a car game?" Nola ventured.

"Nope," Daryl answered flatly.

"You want another cinnamon bun?" Nola asked sweetly.

"Give it here," Daryl held out his had expectantly. Daryl looked over at Nola. She was looking put out. It was probably because she wanted to talk. _Why do all women need to talk_.

"You know you're an accomplice now," Daryl offered.

"What?" Nola said, confused by what Daryl had said and surprised he'd spoken.

"You're partaking in the stolen goods from the gas station, you're an accomplice now," Daryl explained.

"Oh my, are you thinking of turning me in?" Nola laughed.

"Never."

Shortly, Merle returned. "Those army assholes ain't lettin' people into the city – say they're sorting out logistical problems. What you say Daryl, how about we go and get logistical on their ass?"

Daryl peered at the line of cars forming behind them, and then the retreating sun.

"Ain't no way I'm getting us stuck out here – what if those things come tearing through? It's gonna be a damn stampede to get out of here," Daryl thought for a minute. "I saw a service road a couple miles back. I say we go up there and wait the night, and see what's happening in the morning."

"And lose our place in line for these free government handouts little D? Those are my tax dollars feeding all those assholes in Atlanta, and I'm out here, drying up on this highway!"

"You don't pay any damn taxes, Merle!" Daryl shot back. "Now you comin' or not?"

Daryl's truck rumbled to life. He wrenched the wheel around, and headed back down the highway the way they came past bewildered passengers in cars.

"You fine with this?" Daryl asked Nola.

"Do I have a choice?" Nola replied.

"Look, ain't gonna do us any good to be sitting out there. Logistical problems means they're full, and unless a bunch of people up and leave, ain't gonna be no more room or supplies. We're on our own," Daryl said.

"You really think?" Nola asked, scared.

Daryl didn't answer.

* * *

**Thank you so much to my new followers and of course the lovely people leaving reviews! I love hearing from you guys. Daryl's being a bit of jerk, but that's just him. XOXO**


	6. Chapter 6 - Fires Burning

"Why you lettin' this bitch use us?"

Daryl clenched his teeth, focusing on finding kindling on the forest floor.

Merle could feel he was getting under Daryl's skin. "Oh, maybe you're dreamin' that you two will be washing your panties together? Ain't never gonna happen Little D."

"Shut up," Daryl said absentmindedly. Even though he was only half-listening to his brother, the words still hurt. Daryl knew that Nola wouldn't be here if she had any other options.

Merle turned back to face the clearing where they had decided to set up camp. Nola was patiently attempting to set up a tent she'd never used before. "Look at that girl – can't even set that thing up! She ain't gonna be no use to us and she sure as Hell ain't givin' you no sugar. Why we keepin' her around?"

Daryl didn't answer.

"Huh?" Merle said, shoving Daryl into a tree.

Daryl snapped. "Maybe I'm keepin' her around so I'm not stuck listenin' to your ignorant ass all day! Jesus!"

Merle seemed satisfied with the anger he'd inspired and strutted off down the hill and toward the lake in the quarry.

Daryl started back to the campsite with his arm full of wood. They'd brought their truck as far up as the old road allowed. The road ended in a clearing that overlooked a lake that had formed in a long-abandoned quarry. It was a beautiful location, but too visible for Daryl's liking so the group had continued on foot further up into the foothills surrounding Atlanta. Finally they'd reached a small clearing that provided an impressive view of the Atlanta skyline and the surrounding hills. A short walk away from the clearing to the wooded side of the hill gave a view of the quarry and the truck. Daryl knew that as soon as those people on the highway figured out that they weren't getting into the refugee camp all Hell would break loose. He wanted to see anyone arriving before they saw him. Daryl returned to find Nola sitting on the ground, carefully examining the instructions that had fallen out of her never-been-used tent.

There were three pictures; one where the poles clicked into place, one where you threaded the poles into some loops, and then another where the tent just seemed to pop up. She stared up at the dusk filled sky and wondered what it was like in the refugee camp. Was it safer than here? She hadn't seen a soul since they'd left the main road – living or dead. She wondered how long she would have to stay for. _Did I pack toothpaste?_ She continued idly. Her teeth already felt fuzzy.

She jumped a little when she saw a flicker in her periphery. It was just Daryl returned with the firewood. _Damn, he's quiet_, she thought, _Probably learned from the hunting_. Daryl had thrown himself on the ground and was carving out a hole in the ground using one of the branches he had brought back. He didn't seem to notice her staring. Watching him, she had a thought. Nola got to her feet and began to dig through her camping supplies, and she triumphantly held up a small spade.

"Maybe this will help?" Nola asked proudly. For the first time she didn't feel like she was a burden.

"Maybe if we were plantin' flowers," Daryl said. Moments later, the branch he'd been using to carve out the ground cracked, splitting itself perfectly down the middle.

Hardly stopping, Daryl grabbed another branch from his pile and kept digging. Soon enough, he had made a sizeable hole – large enough to keeping anyone or anything from seeing the flames. Daryl mindlessly tossed a match into the kindling he'd arranged. The fire sprang up around the wood, dancing lazily just above the hole he'd dug.

It was dark now, and Nola had nearly finished with her tent. She'd finally figured out how all the hooks worked and where the pegs went. Without so much as a cursory glance to Nola, Daryl took out his tent and set it up within minutes. It was barely big enough for two. Its dark green fabric stood in stark contrast to the bright yellow and blue of Nola's 5-person tent. Daryl rolled his eyes at the gaudiness of the tent. He resolved to find some kind of a tarp tomorrow to cover it from prying eyes.

Neither of them had spoken a word since Nola had offered Daryl the spade. He made her feel silly and incapable. _Sure, it was true that she wasn't good at this, but she was good at other things_, she reasoned.

They sat together around the fire.

In the distance Daryl heard the drone of what sounded like a fighter jet. Sure enough, moments later a dark shape passed over them with a deafening sound. The first plane was followed by another, then another . . . Daryl counted 13 in total. They were flying toward Atlanta.

Nola rose to her feet. Daryl was standing silently, arms folded, his eyes toward the Atlanta skyline.

"What do you think is going on?" Nola questioned, forming the words slowly. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

As if in answer to her question, there was a flash of light and a loud explosion. Curls of flame began erupting on the side of a building in the far away distance and thick black smoke billowed into the sky.

"What are they doing!" Nola cried, completely panicked.

Daryl frowned, "Looks like they're napalming the city," his voice flat.

Daryl and Nola stood together, watching the city smoke and flame in silence. Merle had turned up somewhere close to the beginning of the bombing. A few fish hung from a stick he'd skewered them on for cooking. This chaos was overwhelming even for Merle. He'd stood in silence with Daryl and Nola, fish in hand. None of them knew exactly how long it had lasted but when silence had returned their fire had nearly died.

Silently Merle added wood to the fire and then set up a rudimentary fish rotisserie system with the help of two additional sticks.

"Good thing we never made it into Atlanta," Merle said with less enthusiasm than normal.

"Mhmm," Daryl and Nola sounded simultaneously.

"What now?" Daryl wondered aloud. He didn't expect Nola to have any input and Merle probably wasn't going to have anything useful to say.

"We don't really know what's going on right now – maybe they are getting the situation under control," Nola said hopefully.

"Or those things have taken over the city and they're killing everyone they think might be infected and the refugee camp is done," Daryl said darkly.

"So what we gonna do?" Merle asked aggressively. He wasn't used to having to make important decisions. "We stay here, what's to say they ain't gonna napalm these hills next?"

"They ain't gonna napalm the hills, ain't nobody here!" Daryl sneered. "What we gotta worry about is people comin' up here wantin' what we got. Highway is close, and people are gonna be turning around now lookin' for some place to go. Some of them are gonna end up here."

A wicked smile curled on Merle's lips, "Well, now, that might work out to our advantage now wouldn't it?"

Daryl cocked an eyebrow, waiting for Merle to elaborate, not liking where this was going.

"Well, see, maybe some nice folks come up here, and they uh, well, we get them to share their things with us," Merle chortled, "Whether they want to or not."

"Yeah? You wanna steal some old tents and rotten sandwhiches from some kids and soccer moms?" Daryl retorted. To be fair, he'd done his fair share of bad shit, but he wasn't keen to advertise this to Nola.

"Oh come on, Darylina! You're only complainin' because you got your lil' honey here," Merle antagonized.

Nola stayed silent. This was a side of Daryl she'd never considered before. She knew his brother was bad, but what she'd seen at Al's gas station and the way he was talking now made her wonder how similar Daryl was.

She left the boys to their bickering. Nola walked to the wooded side of the hill overlooking the quarry. The nearly full moon was shinning brightly above. The billowing smoke from the city wasn't visible from this side. After a few minutes she heard footsteps.

Daryl's argument with Merle had ended when Merle produced a flask of whiskey from his vest pocket, laughed and said, "Ain't gotta make any decisions now. You'll change your tune once 'ol Merle gets into it."

Daryl grunted in dissension, rising to find Nola.

"You two lovebirds have fun!" Merle called after Daryl's retreating back.

"Go to Hell!" Daryl muttered.

Within moments he saw Nola leaning on a tree bathed in moonlight and paused. Her long hair that he'd normally seen tied back in the diner was still loose from their hurried exit this morning. It was tangled and a twig was stuck in it. He began to approach her, remembering how his silent approach had made her jump the last time. He deliberately stepped on a branch he knew would give a resounding crack.

She looked back to see who was approaching, then returned to staring at the moon and quarry below.

Silently, Daryl reached up and plucked the twig from Nola's hair. Even tangled, it felt soft ad inviting against his fingertips. Feeling the slight tug on her hair, Nola turned to see Daryl, twig in hand.

"Thanks," she blushed.

Daryl gave her a terse nod of acknowledgement.

The moonlight fell on Daryl's bare arms folded across his chest. Nola's eyes danced over the curves of his biceps and forearms. It had been a while since she'd been with anyone romantically. Truthfully, she was a little peeved that Daryl had never asked her out.

"Merle's just . . ." Daryl started.

"Yeah, no, I know. That ain't you," Nola said, hoping she believed what she was saying herself.

Daryl turned back toward the campsite. "You comin'?"

"Yeah," Nola said. Just as she was about to turn and follow Daryl, she saw a flicker of light in the distance.

"Wait!" Nola hissed in a low voice, pointing. Daryl turned his eyes in the direction Nola was pointing. Sure enough, he saw headlights winding up the quarry road.

They weren't alone.

* * *

**Hi Lovies! I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm still undecided about how closely I'll follow the show and how much detail I'll go into. I really want to stay true to the characters, but I also don't want to bore you guys re-reading stuff you already know! Thank you to all the new followers and to the comments. I smile every time I get an alert about a new follower, and I glow with every comment! XOXO**


	7. Chapter 7 - Hunting

Hidden in the forest above, Daryl and Nola watched the arrival of the new guests. It was too dark to see much. There was an RV plus 5 more vehicles. The people looked harmless enough – mostly families with children.

"They don't look like much," Daryl said. "We'll go see what they're about in the morning – they ain't gonna find us up here tonight."

Daryl and Nola stood in silence for a few minutes. "Why don't you head on back, get some sleep. I'll stay here 'n keep watch," Daryl said as he settled himself against a tree.

Nola's eyes were drooping – and she didn't seen the need to watch their new neighbours closely anyways.

"You sure?" Nola said, hoping she sounded convincingly sympathetic.

"Yeah – Merle's gonna be snoring the whole night anyhow. Might as well stay here."

Nola retreated to her tent. Indeed she could hear Merle snoring, but she was so tired that she soon fell asleep.

It was dawn. Daryl was resting his head against the tree, his eyes shut. Hearing footsteps approaching from behind his eyes snapped open and his hand moved for the hunting knife on his belt.

"Boo," Merle said flatly. "No need to get your panties in a knot, little brother. Now what's going on down there?" Merle said with curiosity, eyeing their new neighbours' camp.

"Duh know – they pulled in last night. Just a bunch of a families," Daryl said nodding toward the camp.

Merle rubbed his chin slowly, "Well now, I think they owe us something for setting up on our land."

"The Hell you talkin' about Merle? Ain't nobody owes us shit," Daryl grimaced. His brother's penchant for chaos was getting tiresome.

"Well now hold on baby brother, don't sell yourself short. If we don't take from these fine people, someone else just gonna do it sooner or later. This way we're doing them a favour. We'll cozy up to them, then rob 'em blind. We won't take everything, and this way they'll learn to watch out for people like us," Merle chortled.

Daryl didn't respond – there was no point in arguing with Merle.

A wicked smile crossed Merle's face, "So, yer princess give it up yet?"

"Shut up, Merle," Daryl said through gritted teeth.

"She's usin' you boy! She's usin' _us_," Merle spat. "She ain't no good to us – 'specially if she ain't puttin' out."

Daryl scowled in the direction of Nola's tent. _Merle has a point_, Daryl thought to himself, _Nola didn't even want to leave the highway with him and Merle_. _Now she's stuck with here – stuck with me_. _She's better off with those new people down there_.

"Fine – we'll leave her with these new people," Daryl shrugged in defeat.

Merle nodded in approval as he started down toward the new arrivals.

Daryl clenched his fists and watched Merle leave. Finally, after several minutes of debate he followed his brother down to the new camp.

He found Merle talking to a tall man with dark hair. The way held himself made Daryl think he was a cop. Daryl didn't like him already.

" . . . sounds like a good idea to me, and I'd be pleased to lend y'all a hand!" Merle said, flashing what he thought was a winning smile. The man he was talking to looked uneasy – but he also didn't look like he had much of a choice. Looking around the camp Daryl saw an old guy in a bucket hat, some women and children, and a couple of people who looked like they'd never slept a night outdoors.

The man Merle was talking to thrust his hand forward toward Daryl. "Name's Shane – I take it you're Daryl?"

Daryl jerked his head in acknowledgement.

"Your brother just agreed to join our go-to-town group – said y'all might be interested in joining our camp?" Shane inquired.

Merle nudged Daryl, "Yeah Daryl – why don't you come along with me to see what's happening in the city?"

Daryl knew that Merle was planning on looting – and who knows what else.

"I'm gonna stay back here. Should be some deer up in these hills," Daryl said out the side of his mouth, hoping Merle wouldn't oblige him to come along.

Merle jovially clapped Daryl on the back, "So we'll bring back the 'taters and my baby brother's gonna bring home the bacon!"

Daryl left Merle with the new group and headed back up to their camp. The new group seemed nice enough, but he was better on his own. Daryl ducked into his tent to get his crossbow. When he re-emerged he saw Nola, standing in front of her tent dressed in cut off shorts and a white t-shirt. Daryl could see the outline of her black bra through the shirt. Slightly embarrassed he turned his gaze toward the ground.

"What's going on?" Nola asked.

"Merle's going into Atlanta with some of the group down there. I'm going huntin'," Daryl stated, fidgeting with his bow. "Why don't you go on down and meet them?" Daryl suggested, still avoiding eye contact with Nola.

"I don't know them," Nola said, biting her lip with worry. Nola was not keen on meeting strangers. "I was thinking I could come with you? I've never been hunting before."

"Well I ain't gonna be your babysitter," sighed Daryl. He waved Nola toward her tent, "Why don't you go on and change your shirt – that white's gonna scare the deer."

"Oh, yeah," Nola said, feeling dumb.

Soon they were walking through the woods. Daryl had made it apparent he wasn't interested in talking. Periodically Daryl would kneel, examine the ground, and then continue on. He seemed to be following trails and cues Nola couldn't see.

Suddenly, Daryl held up his hand and came to a dead stop. Nola couldn't see or hear anything, until Daryl pointed to a shadowy figure in the distance.

"It's one of those dead things," Daryl whispered nodding toward it.

Nola shuddered. Daryl moved to walk in the opposite direction. "Wait – we can't just leave it like that!" Nola whispered urgently.

"Why not? S'far away enough from our camp – ain't gonna find its way to us," Daryl said defensively.

"Please? I just know that I'd want someone to put me down if I ever . . ." Nola trailed off.

"Fine," Daryl grunted. He cocked his bow and slid in a bolt as he strode forward. The creature raised its head as it saw us approach and let out a low, gasping growl. Without breaking pace, Daryl leveled his bow and shot a bolt between its eyes. The creature crumpled to the ground. Daryl absent mindedly braced the creature's head with his foot and removed his bow, pausing to wipe the bolt on the forest floor.

"Thank you," Nola said quietly.

After several hours, they came to a river. It was hot and sweat was pouring off of them. Daryl sat and kicked off his boots. Rolling up his pants he dunked his feet in the water.

Nola was relieved. She was exhausted. She pulled off her own shoes and noticed blood on the toes and heels of her socks. _How am I going to hike all the way back? It must be nearly dark_. Nola felt her stomach twist painfully – then she remembered they hadn't eaten since last night.

She felt Daryl nudge her with a bottle, "C'mon – drink up," he ordered.

After rummaging in his sack Daryl produced a tin of beans and some jerky. He cracked open the tin using his hunting knife and handed it to Nola with some of the jerky.

"You ain't lookin' good," Daryl said, a touch of concern in his normally gruff voice.

"Thanks," Nola said sarcastically.

Daryl felt stupid. _Well looks like I ain't getting better at talking to women_.

"I'm gonna go take a piss," he said flatly.

Nola was too occupied with the can of beans to really hear him.

_Yer just a dumbass redneck that she ain't gonna pay any attention to once she meets that cop Shane_, Daryl thought to himself. He zipped his pants up and leaned against the tree he'd just pissed on. "She ain't never gonna be interested," he muttered aloud to himself.

Then he heard a scream. It only took him a few moments to get back to where Nola was, but one of the dead things was on top of her. Nola was kicking it away desperately with her feet as it reached for her. In a single move Daryl grabbed his hunting knife from the rock he'd laid it on and plunged the blade into the top of the creature's skull. The dead body went limp in his hands and he threw it roughly to ground. The thing had been a woman of slight built – smaller than Nola to be sure. Daryl shook his head to think what might have happened had the creature been slightly bigger.

Nola was pale and shaking. She lay on the ground stunned. Daryl knelt.

"You bit?"

Nola shook her head. The dead thing's blood had dripped on to her cheeks and down her neck. Daryl took his handkerchief from his back pocket and started wiping away the thick, dark blood.

"C'mon, sit up, you're fine," Daryl said, nudging her to an upright position.

Nola burst into tears. She felt silly, helpless. _This is probably the last thing that Daryl wanted to deal with_, she berated herself. _Get your shit together_.

Daryl started looking over Nola, making sure there weren't any scratches from the dead thing. Other than a few scrapes, she seemed fine – until he saw her feet. They were blistered and bleeding. Daryl shook his head, _Why didnt't she say anything?_ _She probably thinks I'm an ass_.

Daryl slung his bow and his backpack over his shoulder. He slid one arm underneath her bent knees and one arm behind her back to pick her up.

"You're a lot heavier than you look," Daryl said as he stumbled slightly.

Nola smiled weakly, "Thanks."

Daryl walked a upstream, away from the dead body. After a few minutes, he found what he thought was a good location and went to work building a shelter. He leaned thick dead branches around the base of a tall tree. Finally, he wove a few branches with leaves through for camouflage. It was simple, but it would hide them from anything stumbling on them. Daryl had already been one night without sleep and he probably wouldn't do well without another night of sleep.

Darkness was falling as he went to get Nola, who sitting listlessly by the bank.

"We're gonna stay up here tonight – I can't carry you the whole way back and I don't think your feet are going to make it."

She looked up at him, tears still glistening on her cheeks.

"I'm sorry Daryl," Nola sighed.

"Fer what?" Daryl said, genuinely confused. If anything, _he_ should be sorry for dragging her up here.

"For inviting myself along with you and your brother," Nola said through renewed sobs. "I'm not like you guys – I can't hunt, or camp, or fish . . . I'm just useless! If you hadn't have come that thing would have gotten me."

Daryl wasn't good at accepting praise. He'd never considered himself good at anything.

"You're tired, just come get some sleep," Daryl muttered.

Nola rose to her feet and put her arms around Daryl's neck. Now it was Daryl's turn to freeze.

Nola brought her lips to Daryl's. She kissed him softly. His lips were tense and unresponsive. With her arms around his neck she could feel his back tense. After a brief moment, she pulled away, eyes downcast.

Daryl gestured to the shelter he'd made. Nola crawled in and turned on her side to face a wall. Daryl crawled in next to her and laid on his back, arms on crossed on his chest. He licked his lips furtively, tasting Nola's salty tears.

Within moments they were both asleep.

* * *

**This chapter's a little long . . . I hope you guys enjoy it! I know I'm crunching the time line of the series a bit. To be honest the 2 month lag between the outbreak and Rick meeting up with the group never made sense to me (no way could he survive in a coma unattended for 2 months), so I'm shortening it by a lot. Also I'm not so sure how close I want to stick to the show story line. Obviously it would be a different from the show because Nola factors into the story, but how different? I might just keep writing in fast-forward mode until the prison. Anyways, I write for you guys so let me know what you want! Do you want more gruffiness between Daryl and Nola, or should I keep this PG rated?! XOXO**


	8. Chapter 8 - Attack

Nola's eyes fluttered open as bright morning light streamed through the branches of the shelter. Nola crawled out to find Daryl sitting by the river and smoking.

"You ready to head back?" Nola asked.

"Yeah," Daryl said as he took a last drag. He stubbed out his smoke on a rock and rose to his feet.

"You feelin' okay?" Daryl questioned.

"I'm fine," Nola said, embarrassed.

Together, they headed back toward the camp. They walked in silence for some time. Since they hadn't had any luck finding a deer, Daryl started shooting squirrels along the way. Each time he raised his cross-bow and the bolt flew through the air it would hit its mark. Suddenly Daryl swung his cross-bow from his back and in a what seemed like a single swift movement, cocked, loaded, and fired at a target that Nola couldn't see.

Daryl broke into a run, following whatever he'd seen.

"What are we running after? Is it one of those things?" Nola said in a voice that was in between a whisper and a shout.

"S'Deer," Daryl hissed, "I caught him in the neck but he's still goin'."

As they followed the deer Nola started to notice the tracks. She saw broken branches and flecks of blood on the green leaves. She could see hoof marks that had disturbed the leaf litter on the ground and turned up fresh earth.

Finally they came to a clearing and found the deer collapsed, a bolt sticking out of its neck and a chunk of its flesh missing. The group from the new camp was standing and staring in horror at a dead and decaying body that had just been decapitated, apparently responsible for the missing flesh.

"Son of a bitch! That's my deer!" Daryl called out in frustration. Daryl knelt to remove his bolt from the deer. "It's all chewed up by this motherless, disease bearin', poxy-bastard," Daryl yelled as he kicked the dead body. Finished kicking, he knelt to retrieve his bolt. "Think we can just cut 'round this chewed up part right here?"

"I would not do that," Shane shook his head.

Grumbling, Daryl pulled his bolt out of the deer.

"Uh, hi, I'm Nola," Nola said to the stunned group, breaking the silence.

"Name's Shane – this is Lori, her son Carl, and Rick," Shane said.

"Nice to meet you," Nola said as she eyed Daryl heading toward the new camp.

"Merle! Where you at? I got squirrel," Daryl called out.

Nola saw Rick and Shane exchange worried looks.

"Daryl Dixon, my name's Rick Grimes, and I have something to tell you about your brother," Rick started slowly.

Daryl looked around. His brother was nowhere to be found.

"Alright, Rick Grimes, what you got to tell me?" Daryl fumed.

"We left your brother handcuffed to a roof in Atlanta because he was a threat to the group. Now, I-"

Daryl cut Rick off, "Hold on," he said, pacing as he spoke, "You're tellin' me that you handcuffed my brother to a roof and then you just left him there?"

"Your brother was going to get us all killed, I had no choice," Rick explained.

Daryl was seeing red. He threw his cross-bow to the ground. Drawing his hunting knife, he launched himself at Rick.

Nola gasped, too frightened to intervene.

Before Daryl could reach Rick, Shane had grabbed him from behind and put him in a chokehold. Daryl struggled against Shane's grip, but couldn't break it.

"Get off me! Chokeholdin's illegal!" Daryl gasped under Shane's grip.

"Yeah? Why don't you file a complaint," Shane said unsympathetically.

Realizing he had lost this fight, Daryl let his body go limp. Shane released his grip.

"Just tell me where he is so I can go get him," Daryl said as he wiped face defeatedly.

_Were those tears?_ Nola wondered.

"We'll show you," Rick said nodding toward an Asian boy in a baseball hat.

Daryl was already headed toward the truck as Rick and a few of the others gathered to discuss their plan.

"C'mon people let's go! We're losin' daylight!" Daryl hollered as he banged on the side of the truck.

In the end Rick, Daryl and two people Nola hadn't met yet made the run into town to get Merle.

Nola joined two blond women fishing in the quarry pool, Andrea and her sister Amy. It was hot out, and the sky was a perfect colour of blue. They swam in the cool waters of the quarry until the sun set. Dripping wet and carrying the fish they had caught, the girls made their way to the campfire that the others were sitting around. Nola hadn't brought a change of clothing, and she wasn't keen to walk through the dark woods alone to where she, Daryl, and Merle still had their camp.

Nola sat by the fire as everyone talked and joked as if they were on a leisurely camping trip. She shivered a cool night breeze swept through her hair and chilled her still damp clothing.

Nola felt a blanket cover her shoulders. Before she could look around, she felt strong hands grasp her shoulders and a deep, southern voice whispered in her ear, "Noticed you shiverin' - can't have you getting sick on us. We need y'all in top shape." It was Shane. Nola smiled at him, appreciating the gesture. He was handsome, but decidedly not her type. Andrea seemed to have a thing for him anyways.

"So how do you know Daryl?" Amy asked, pursing her lips coyly.

"Oh! It's nothing like that! I know him and Merle from the diner where I work," Nola continued, explaining ho Darlene had been bitten, how they'd gone to find Merle, how Will Dixon was killed, and finally how they ended up here.

"So you don't mind if I . . ." Amy giggled suggestively.

"I don't think Daryl's her type anyways," Shane said as he nodded toward Nola. "She wants someone more her speed."

_Ew. I hope he__'__s not thinking of himself_, Nola thought.

"Okay, well, I'm going to excuse myself to tap bail out the pink canoe," Amy laughed.

"What?" Shane said, confused.

"God, I can't take a pee discreetly around here," Amy said with fake exasperation as she rose and headed in the direction of the RV.

Shane shook his head in mock distaste and turned his attention to Nola.

"So what are you thinking, girl? You planning on sticking with the Dixons? You're welcome to join our camp," Shane said.

"I haven't really thought about it," Nola said truthfully. She hadn't really been thinking about too much anything other than the immediate future - she was still holding out hope that the military would have this resolved within days.

Although Daryl seemed to be warming up to her, she still felt like a burden to him and his brother. Merle also wasn't all that much fun to be around. As Nola was lost in her thoughts the rest of the people surrounding the campfire buzzed with conversation.

Suddenly a shriek pierced their ears. All eyes followed the sound to land on Amy standing by the RV where one of the dead things had its jaws clamped onto her arm. At that moment the group realized that they were surrounded by the rotting creatures. Lori drew Carl close to her as Andrea sprinted toward Amy. Shane had started firing his shot gun and downing the creatures as fast as they were advancing.

"There's too many walkers! Nola, Lori! take Carl and try to get to the car!" There was no hope of any of them reaching any of the cars. Lori reached for a log that had been lying beside the fire and began swinging. Nola reached for the same, but her hand landed on a log that was lying half in the fire. She started swinging the flaming log at the approaching walkers. The first one she caught in the chin, knocking it back and to the ground. As it began to stagger to its feet, Nola swung the flaming log down hard to crush its skull. Her blow landed, and the creature lay still.

"Nola!" Lori cried as Nola felt cold fingers close on her arm. The log slipped from her hands as she fell to the ground. Lori was flailing her log uselessly at two walkers closing in on her. The walker was now on top of Nola and reaching its maw toward her. Using both her feet she kicked the walker backward. So sooner than the walker landed it started back toward her. Still on the ground Nola scrambled backward feeling behind her for the flaming log that she had dropped.

"Get down!" Nola heard Daryl's familiar voice call through the darkness. Without thinking she obeyed, lying flat on the ground. As a bolt shot past her to land squarely between the walker's eyes she felt a burning sensation on her shoulder. She'd found her once flaming log, now extinguished.

Daryl grabbed her roughly by the arm and hauled her up. He pressed his hunting knife into Nola's hand as he swung his unloaded cross bow into the soul of an approaching walker.

Soon the sound of shots died down in the camp. Shaken, the group assessed the damage. Altogether 13 people had died. Nola only knew one of them - Amy. It was quickly decided that it was no longer safe to stay this close to Atlanta. The original plan had been that it would be safest close to a refugee site, but according to Rick and Daryl the city of Atlanta now belonged to the dead. After much discussion, the remaining group decided on heading toward the CDC in the hopes that they had a cure.

As day was breaking Daryl and Nola hiked to their camp to gather their things.

Nola already knew the answer to the question, but it would have been strange not to ask.

" . . . Merle?"

Avoiding her gaze, Daryl said, "He's gone."

"What do you mean he's gone? Wasn't he handcuffed to a roof?" Nola inquired.

"We got up there, and we found his hand. He cut it off to get off that roof," Daryl explained as Nola gasped in shock.

"Toughest man I ever met, my brother. Feed him a hammer and he'd crap out nails. Anyways, he's out there somewhere, but we lost his trail. I think he took the the ride we used to get into town. S'why we were almost too late getting back," Daryl finished.

They reached their camp site. Suddenly Nola remembered her shoulder that had been burned by the flaming log the night before. She touched her hand to the wound, wincing. It was hot and sticky.

Daryl saw her wound. "Hold on," he muttered and walked a few paces back down the trail they'd just come up. Within moments he'd returned with something clutched in his hand.

"Show me," Daryl commanded.

Without asking questions, Nola obliged and shrugged her shirt down and off her shoulder. She felt something cool and powdery being gently dabbed on the wound.

"There. Should help it heal," Daryl said with satisfaction.

"What was that?" Nola asked.

"Puffball mushroom. It's an old trick you learn in the woods."

* * *

**I'm so happy to be back to writing! I've got a lot of great ideas for this story. I think I'm going to touch on a similar story line (and throw in some of my favourite Darylisms), but see how my OFC changes the story. I'll skim over some parts, and also we'll see some stuff that the tele show didn't see! For example we didn't see a lot of Daryl at the CDC. He was definitely doing something at the CDC . . . more importantly what will he be doing with Nola at the CDC? Please fav, follow and review!**


	9. Chapter 9 - CDC

Daryl's truck was almost out of gas, and and according to him it was on the verge of a breakdown. He'd decided to leave it behind and fill up his brother's bike instead.

"You can ride with me on the bike or in the RV with Dale and Jackie," Daryl offered to Nola.

"I've never ridden on a motorcycle before," Nola said, her interest peaked.

Nola climbed on the back of the bike as Daryl kicked the engine to life. She wrapped her arms around his waist and Daryl pushed off to lead the convoy. After a few minutes Nola felt comfortable enough on the bike to rest her head against Daryl's back. The attacks from last night were still fresh in her mind - visions of the rotting teeth and grasping hands greeted her as she closed her eyes. Trying to focus on something else, she found Daryl's scent washing over her. He smelled of gasoline, pine needles, and hint of stale cigarette smoke. It was an odd combination, yet somehow it was completely intoxicating.

Daryl had never ridden with another person on the back of the bike. Speeding up as the road cleared he felt Nola tighten her grip. It was a good feeling.

The sun was beginning to set when they finally reached the CDC. Daryl nudged a sleeping Nola awake.

Nola sleepily eyed the scene before her. It looked like the CDC had been overrun. There were dead bodies in army fatigues and a few walkers milling about. The building itself looked intact, but there were no lights or signs of life.

The group approached cautiously, downing the walkers as they went. Rick hammered on the door and received no response. The group had turned to leave, dismayed. Shane was yelling at Rick that they should have gone to Fort Benning - coming here had been a mistake. The children were crying and Lori was muttering hysterically about not having any food or water.

Suddenly, Rick started hollering at a security camera.

"I saw it move!" Rick insisted, "There's something in there!" Addressing whoever he thought was behind the camera, "We have women and children, if you leave us out here you're killing us! That's on you!"

As if that had been the magic password, the gated door rolled up and open. Bright light blinded our eyes, framing a tall and thickly built man.

"I'm Dr. Bruce Jenner. Know that once that door closes behind you, it's not opening again. Do you all agree?"

The group nodded in silent agreement.

After a blood test to verify that no one was infected, Jenner explained the facilities. The other scientists and staff had left when things got bad. Others had 'opted out', as he put it. Now Jenner was the last one remaining.

Surprisingly, the facility was well stocked not only with food, but also with booze. The group laughed and drank with Dr. Jenner. For the first time in what seemed like forever, everyone was able to relax. No one was looking over their shoulder for walkers. Everyone knew there was a warm bed waiting for them where they could sleep a full night.

Taking a sip of her vodka soda, Nola felt eyes on her. Looking up she saw it was Shane. He smiled a crooked smile at her. Judging by the glaze on his eyes and the way he was slumped in his chair he had had quite a bit to drink.

Turning her attention to Daryl, Nola saw him laughing as he goaded Glenn into taking another shot of Southern Comfort. Daryl's cheeks were rosy, but paled in comparison to Glenn's bright red face.

"I'll see y'all in the morning," Nola called as she rose from the table. It was returned with a chorus of goodnights from the rest of the table.

Nola walked down the hallway, trailing her hand along the wall to keep her balance. Bleary eyed, she stumbled into the room she'd been allotted. Kicking off her pants she rolled a plain white t-shirt that had been left in the room by previous occupant.

Nola was exhausted, but when she laid back on her bed she found she couldn't sleep. She rolled out of bed and stumbled to the games room that Jenner had shown them with the hopes of finding a book that would put her to sleep.

No sooner had she started perusing the books than did she hear footsteps enter the room. Through her befuddled mind she suddenly realized she still wasn't wearing anything other than the t-shirt and panties.

"Can't sleep?" Shane said casually, leaning on the door frame.

"Just getting something to read. It's weird sleeping indoors in a bed," Nola said, hoping Shane would leave.

"I saw you looking at me tonight," Shane drawled.

"What are you talking about?" Nola said as Shane started walking toward her. Nola backed up against the book case.

"I think you know what I'm talking about," Shane said as he leaned with his hand resting on the bookcase beside Nola's head.

Nola could smell the sour stink of rum on his breath.

"I'm going to bed," Nola muttered, trying to slip under Shane's arm. Shane caught her arm and pressed her against the bookcase with his hips. He moved his head to hers trying to kiss her. Nola turned her face pushed with both hands against his chest. Shane stumbled backward. Anger was now in his eyes.

Before Shane could make his next move Daryl appeared. He saw Nola standing next to the bookcase, obviously frightened, and Shane standing between her and the door, bristling with rage.

"Nola, you alright?" Daryl asked as he moved between Shane and Nola.

Shane composed himself, trying to laugh it off. "I think I just gave her a scare is all," he said with a forced smile, "Isn't that right Nola?"

Nola stood silently.

Shane chuckled to himself, muttering about drinking too much as he retreated out of the games room.

Daryl turned to Nola, only just realizing that she was missing the bottom half of her clothing. He turned his back swiftly.

"Do you, uh, want me to go get you something to wear, or just leave . . ." Daryl mumbled.

"If you would just walk me to my room that would be great," Nola said, quickly wiping away the tears that had formed and were rolling down her cheeks.

They started down the hall toward their rooms, Daryl walking slightly ahead of Nola with his eyes downcast.

"Goodnight," Daryl mumbled as Nola entered her room. As Daryl turned to leave, Nola placed her hand on his arm. Daryl stopped.

"Daryl?"

"Mmhm?"

"Could we sleep in the same room tonight?" Nola asked, doe eyed.

Daryl was stunned. He didn't know what to think, much less say.

"Why?" Was the only thing Daryl could stutter.

"I don't trust that Shane won't come back," after a pause Nola continued, "and I like you, Daryl."

Again, like the time in woods, Nola reached her face toward Daryl's, bringing their lips together. This time she allowed the kiss to linger, caressing his lips with the softness of hers. She moved her body closer to his, pressing into him.

For his part, Daryl remained stiff and unresponsive. He moved his hands to her arms and gently pushed her away.

"You're drunk," he said sadly.

"And what if I am?" Nola said indignantly.

"You wouldn't want this if you weren't," Daryl said.

"I would," Nola said in a hurt voice.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! As usual, I love comments/follows/favourites.**


	10. Chapter 10 - Escape

Nola lay in her bed, head throbbing from her hangover. She looked around the room - she was alone. A mattress pulled from the bed in the next room lay on the floor beside her with a blanket lying tangled at its foot. Daryl must have slept there.

Rubbing her eyes, Nola rolled out of her bed, pulling on the jeans she'd just cleaned in at the CDC's facilities. As she was finishing getting dressed, Daryl barrelled into the room.

"Um, do you knock?" Nola said, still annoyed at being rejected last night.

"Get your stuff together - this shit's blowing up!" Daryl said hurriedly as he ran to the adjacent room to collect his things.

Nola stood motionless, her mouth agape.

Daryl reappeared in what seemed like seconds to Nola's muddled brain, his pack slung over one shoulder.

"What the fuck are you doin' woman? Get your shit together!"

In moments, Nola had shoved her few things back into her bag. Daryl shouted, "C'mon!" and they ran together up to the top side. Everyone else must have already gotten out; one of the windows had been blown out.

Daryl and Nola ran through the window and out across the CDC lawn, maneuvering around the rotting corpses and fallen barricades.

A small explosion boomed from the CDC as Daryl and Nola were half way to the cars.

"Get down!" Daryl shouted has he tackled Nola, landing on top of her. As the weight of Daryl's body nearly crushed Nola, a second massive explosion caused the ground to shudder. Flames exploded out of the CDC, blowing out the remaining windows and collapsing the building. Debris rained down but Daryl's broad shoulders protected Nola from most of the fallout.

It was all over after a few moments. Daryl rolled off of Nola and she gasped for breath. Nola got to her feet shakily as Daryl swung the butt of his cross-bow at a walker staggering toward them.

"You O.K.?" Daryl said, eyeing her up and down from the corner of his eye.

"Yeah - I guess we need to get out of here before more walkers show up because of the noise," Nola said quietly. She felt a sharp pain as she inhaled. Ignoring the pain, she clutched her side as she followed Daryl to his bike.

Daryl slowed his pace to match Nola's - she had said she was fine, but she didn't look it. As she moved ahead of him, Daryl noticed a piece of something caught in her hair from the explosion. He reached out neatly catching it between his fingers.

Nola felt a slight tug on her hair, and turned to see Daryl holding something he'd apparently pulled out.

"This uh . . . I found it in uh . . . " Daryl trailed off, his cheeks rosy with embarrassment.

"Thanks," Nola smiled weakly.

Daryl was thankful when he heard the low growl of another walker, quickly turning his attention toward the creature, allowing him to avoid Nola's gaze.

The group set off again. It was early in the day, and they were able to stop in scavenge gas and food from abandoned cars along the way. Their day of travel proceeded uneventfully. The alternative plan was to try to make it to Fort Benning - if there was anything left of it.

As dusk began to fall they decided to camp on the road among all the dead cars. The plan was to rotate shifts for a watch every two hours. Dale was taking first watch, followed by Daryl, then Rick, and finally Shane. Rick, Lori, Carl, and Dale took the camper. Carol and Sophia took the back of the group's station wagon while Shane, Glenn, Andrea and T-Dog had found an empty Hostess Snack Cake transport truck to camp out in.

Nola found an old delivery truck with a ladder to the roof. She spread out her sleeping bag and laid on top of it, allowing the warm air of the Georgia night to kiss her skin.

Daryl knew everyone had chosen where they would be sleeping for the night. He certainly had quite a few options in the snarled mess of cars and trucks. He had watched as Nola had clambered up to the top of a truck. She was moving slower than usual, and with a bit of difficulty.

For a while Daryl sat on the hood of the car staring at the truck Nola was sleeping on top of. _I should probably check on her_, Daryl thought to himself. _But would she even want that? Now that she isn't drunk and scared she probably doesn't want anything to do me. _Daryl turned away, looking for a suitable sleeping spot. A sound caught his ear - an approaching walker? Daryl listened more closely. He shook his head realizing it just the sound of a raccoon shuffling through the underbrush by the road. _Why am I thinking about this so much? Fuck it, ain't no sense in anyone sleeping alone_.

Daryl strode toward the back of Nola's truck and climbed swiftly up the ladder to the roof.

"Got room?" Daryl half-whispered to Nola, wondering if she was still awake. She was lying on her back with her eyes to the stars. Moonlight bathed her features, making her even more beautiful than he remembered.

"Mmhm," Nola shrugged, without even raising her head. She was still annoyed from her earlier rejection.

Daryl swung his ever-present cross-bow and pack off his back and laid it neatly by his side. He sat cross-legged in front of Nola and waited for her to say something. To say _anything_.

Giving up, Daryl stretched himself out and laid down opposite Nola. He hadn't thought to bring anything to sleep on, but he had to get up in a couple of hours for his shift on watch anyways.

"You want something to lie on?" Nola asked nonchalantly.

"S'fine," Daryl mumbled as Nola was already sitting up to shift the open sleeping bag toward him.

"Mmmph," the movement caused Nola to gasp and clutch her side.

"But you ain't fine," Daryl frowned.

"It's nothing, and I am _fine_," Nola said with far too much emphasis on the word "fine" for it to be believable.

"Well let me see it then," Daryl ordered.

Nola let out an exasperated sigh and lifted her shirt to expose her aching rib cage.

Daryl furrowed his brow, trying to concentrate on Nola's injuries instead of the gentle curve of her waist as it met her hip. He saw a large bruise on her rib cage. It was big, nasty and purple. But as far as he could see in the moonlight it was already turning yellow along the edges. He reached out his hand tentatively.

"You mind?" Daryl questioned.

"Whatever," Nola responded with disinterest.

Daryl gently touched her soft skin. He felt Nola wince as he laid his palm over the bruise. It was only slightly warm to the touch - a good sign. Daryl reluctantly pulled his hands away from Nola.

"I think I cracked your rib back at the CDC," Daryl muttered. "It'll heal by itself in a few weeks."

"Thanks," Nola responded dryly. She didn't show it, but she was relieved to know she didn't have a pierced lung or internal bleeding or something else awful.

"Sorry," Daryl said tersely.

"Better a cracked rib than getting shrapnel'd," Nola replied.

Daryl fumbled in his pack and produced a small handful of pills. "I still got Merle's stash - there's some T3's here, or some oxys if you really wanna party," Daryl offered.

"I'll take the T3s," Nola said grabbing them from his outstretched hand. "Thanks," she said a hint of sweetness back in her voice.

Nola threw back the pills as she moved to her knees and spread the opened sleeping bag over the top of the truck.

Daryl lay down on the furthest edge of the blanket, resting his hands behind his head as a pillow. Nola laid down comfortably on her back.

"So you wanna make out now?" Nola said suddenly. Even though the words were sarcastic, the fact that she had been bold enough to say them surprised even her.

Daryl didn't know how to respond.

"Stop," he said huskily.

"Seriously, do you have a girlfriend I don't know about? A boyfriend?" Nola questioned boldly.

"What do you want from me, woman?" Daryl demanded angrily. "You think I'm just some dumb hick that will take advantage when you're drunk?"

"I thought I made my feelings clear when we were hunting in the woods at the quarry," Nola retorted.

"Yeah, well every time you're interested in me you're either scared or drunk," Daryl snapped.

"Daryl, there are dead people walking around trying to eat us - everyone is scared _all of the time_," Nola stated in a matter of fact tone.

"You know what I mean," Daryl said waving his hand dismissively. "So you're just sittin' over there, waiting for me to make a move?" Daryl sputtered.

"Yeah, I am," Nola said, taunting him.

"Fine," Daryl sat up.

He moved himself closer so that he was beside Nola. Daryl moved on to his side propping his head up on his hand, his eyes fixed on a the small patch of blanket separating them.

Nola stared at him with a cool gaze - she had no intention of making this easy.

Daryl had no idea what to do with his hands. He knew he wanted them on Nola, but he couldn't decide how to get them there. He could feel Nola's eyes staring at him. Exhaling resolutely, he lifted his eyes to meet hers.

Nola had never really looked into Daryl Dixon's eyes. They were heavily lidded and dark - giving them a smokey depth. She'd seen his eyes on his frequent visits to her diner, but she couldn't remember a time when he'd fully met her gaze in the years she'd known him. The intensity of his stare broke Nola's confidence. She blushed and looked down.

Daryl's confidence rose as he saw Nola's wane. He smiled crookedly at her, "Ain't this what you wanted?"

"Yes," Nola murmured.

Daryl moved face next to Nola so that his lips were close to her ear.

"Then why you shakin'?" Daryl whispered in a gravely voice.

"Uh . . ." Nola stammered. The feeling of his warm breath on her neck was sending shivers down her spine. Her nose was filled with a smell she'd come to love - that distinct mixture of pine, gas, cigarettes and musk.

Daryl tilted his head to kiss Nola's cheek. At the same time Nola moved her head toward Daryl, meeting his lips with hers. Daryl froze for an instant, but quickly regained his momentum. He shifted himself closer to Nola so that his body pressed against hers.

At first Daryl's lips were stiff and unyielding. His body was tense against hers. _Has he never done this before?_ Nola wondered to herself. Nola started moving her lips slowly, gradually loosening Daryl's lips.

Daryl groaned in a low and guttural tone - the sound was barely audible; Nola felt the rumble of the groan as Daryl's body pressed against her more than she heard it.

Daryl lifted himself on top of Nola. He placed his forearms on either side of her head, resting most of his weight on them. As he deepened their kiss he grabbed a fistful of her hair, drawing her closer still.

Nola reached both her hands toward Daryl's hips. His usual plaid shirt and leather vest hung loose, making it easy to slip her hands under his shirt. Nola gingerly touched the skin just above his jeans with her fingertips. As she ran her fingers lightly over his hips Daryl let more of his weight fall on her.

Nola felt a tinge of pain in her side, but she didn't want to stop. Daryl's lips had loosened, making his mouth more available. Nola began testing his lips with her tongue. In response Daryl started rhythmically thrusting his hips against Nola's. _He must really like this_, Nola thought triumphantly.

The only thing that Daryl could think was: _Fuck_.

Daryl moved his free hand to Nola's hip. As she felt his calloused hand meet her skin she shivered with excitement. Daryl was slowly sliding his hand along Nola's side until she suddenly cried out in pain.

Daryl rolled off her, a look of horror on his face.

"No! It's just my rib," Nola said breathlessly.

"Sorry. Guess I got carried away," Daryl swallowed hard, trying to compose himself.

"Hey Daryl!" Rick's voice called softly. "Your turn for watch."

Rick's head popped up at the back of truck. He raised an eyebrow as he surveyed the situation: Nola, hair messy, hand clutched to her side, and Daryl sitting on his knees.

"I wouldn't mind taking care of your watch Daryl, if you're busy or-" Rick offered with a knowing smile.

"S'fine," Daryl said, already swinging his cross-bow on to his back and striding toward the back of the truck to climb down.

"Those T3s should be kickin' in soon," Daryl nodded toward Nola.

"Thanks - I think they've already started," Nola said in a voice that was a little too dreamy.

As Daryl and Rick retreated, Nola laid back, her head swimming. The fuzziness in her head wasn't from the painkillers - at least not totally.

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**Hey dudes! Hope you like . . . this is the most detailed I've gotten when it comes to romance. Let me know if you liked it!**


	11. Chapter 11 - Herd

Nola had barely heard Daryl return to the roof of the van after his shift on watch - he moved with the skill of a practiced hunter. Through a cracked eyelid she saw him lay down on his side, facing away from her at the very edge of the blanket she'd spread out for them to share. Nola closed her eyes again, losing herself in a peaceful sleep. Unsurprisingly, Nola awoke alone to the sound of a sputtering motor. The sun was still low in the sky, but it was quickly beginning to get hot and sticky.

Climbing down from the truck Nola ran into Carl.

"Dale's RV is broken, so we're supposed to look for useful stuff. Mom won't let me go far though," Carl said with resentment.

"Is there anything in particular I should look out for?" Nola inquired.

Carl shrugged with disinterest, "Duh know . . . " and wandered away. Nola did not envy Lori's job of trying to keep track of Carl.

Moments later Lori came walking by at top speed.

"Have you seen Carl?"

"Yes - he went that way," Nola said pointing to behind a snarl of cars.

"I swear, that boy is riding on my last nerve," Lori said with exasperation.

"Mind if I tag along? I'm not that sure what we're supposed to find," Nola asked.

Lori nodded with a look of relief.

They made small talk for a few minutes - but the grimness of what they were doing soon took over. As much as Nola enjoyed finding a sky blue sundress that fit her perfectly, of course her thoughts went immediately to the petrified driver in the front of the car who the dress likely belonged to.

From a distance Nola could see Daryl was popping the hoods of vans and trucks as he went along. She gazed in his direction, wondering what last night had meant and where it would lead. Lori noticed Nola staring.

"Should we be looking for some condoms?" Lori asked casually, a smirk on her face.

Taken aback, Nola blushed.

"Is there something going on between you two?" Lori pressed, her curiosity peaked.

"Um no?" Nola said very unconvincingly.

Lori laughed. It was the first time Nola had heard her laugh.

"Look Rick told me he thought he disturbed you two in the middle of . . ."

Nola's cheeks went from rosy to bright red.

"I can't figure him out," Nola blurted. "The man comes to my diner for years and barely says a word. Then this all happens, and I still can hardly get a word out of him. I made things pretty clear to him last night, and now we are back to square one," Nola said defeatedly.

Lori smiled knowingly. "Sweetheart it's not you. I don't think he's had that much experience with women. As far as I can tell he spent most of his time following around that brother of his and never really made a life for himself. Just let him come to you - he'll figure it out."

"So maybe we should look for some condoms? I can't imagine getting pregnant in this world," Nola joked.

Lori's brow furrowed slightly and her eyes became grave. She managed to squeak out a forced chuckle as she nodded in agreement.

Suddenly, both Nola and Lori stopped dead in their tracks. They'd learned to ignore the walkers they saw trapped in cars and the rotting bodies lying splayed on the road but this was something neither of them had seen before.

Still buckled into its baby seat was an infant, no more than a year old. Its blank eyes followed us as we moved closer. It stretched out its little arms toward us as it snapped its toothless mouth. An eerie wheezing sound came from its lips - not quite the groan of an adult walker but rather it was closer to the whisper of an infant's cry.

Lori gasped and covered her mouth in horror. Nola was grim, emotionless. She knew she couldn't leave the undead infant like that. Realizing she didn't have a weapon, Nola's eyes fell on the large hunting knife sitting in a holster still secured to one of the rotting corpses on the road. Without speaking a word, she withdrew the knife. Its long steel blade glinted in the sun. Without touching the blade Nola knew it was sharp. At well over 8 inches long it was formidable weapon.

In a single swift movement, Nola plunged the dagger into the top of the infant's skull. Its tiny arms fell by its side and a slow gurgle boiled from its lips.

Silently, Lori drew a blanket over the corpse, hiding it the world. Nola and Lori both stared in silence at the blanket covering the child as a small patch of stale, nearly black blood soaked through.

Before either could say a word they heard Rick's voice hiss, "Under the cars! Get under the cars!"

Without asking why, both Nola and Lori knew the reason. It had been so quiet at night - none of the watch had seen a single walker. Now, fortune was repenting. Only moments after they had scrambled under the cars - Carl tucked in with Lori and Nola under a car with Rick - dozens of undead feet started shuffling past them. Nola closed her eyes, trying to forget where she was. After what felt like an eternity the shuffling feet stopped. Rick motioned for everyone to stay put - there could be stragglers. A single sound could cause the herd to turn around.

As if on cue, they heard a wail - it was Sophia, Carol's child. Rick scrambled out from underneath the car he was sharing with Nola like a shot.

Unfortunately for Nola, the sound and movement of Rick going to rescue Sofia had attracted one of the stragglers they had feared. The walker had seemed to come out of nowhere. It fell to its knees, grasping at Nola.

Nola quickly scrambled out from under the car, and ran in the only direction she could think of: into the dark and dense woods on the side of the road. The walker was in close pursuit of her. It seemed to be somewhat freshly turned - not as fast moving as a human, but the walkers never seemed to tire. Nola was keeping ahead of it easily enough, but she knew she would tire soon. Checking back over her shoulder, she saw the creature lumbering resolutely after her.

Nola's foot caught an exposed root and she fell, crying out in pain. She moved quickly to get to her feet, wincing as she put weight on the foot she'd stumbled on. Knowing she couldn't run anymore, Nola moved herself behind a massive tree, hoping to take the walker by surprise.

The hunting knife she'd used to put the infant out of its misery was still in her hand. As she heard the creature approach with its shuffling footsteps and heavy breath she swung herself out from behind the tree, aiming her knife to land in creature's skull.

Nola missed. Instead her knife lodged itself neatly in the thing's cheek. Before Nola knew what was happening, the thing was on her, its strong hands grasping shoulders and immobilizing her. She struggled uselessly trying to free herself from the thing's grasp - even if she broke free, she was without a weapon and couldn't run.

As the creature was about to clamp its maw onto her neck, she heard a dull, squelching thud. The walker loosed its grip and crumpled to the ground, Daryl's knife sticking out from the top of its skull.

Staring up at him in amazement, Nola opened her mouth trying to find the right words to express her gratitude for Daryl saving her life - again.

Before she could make a sound, Daryl pushed her roughly against the tree, trapping her beneath him with his hands on either side of her. He kissed her passionately.

Nola melted into his kiss, and then into his body. She responded by wrapping her arms around Daryl's neck. The feeling of his patchy blond facial hair against her skin was heaven. His smell was all around her, infecting her senses.

Daryl moved his hands on to Nola's waist and let his hands fall down her hourglass figure to reach her ass. Flexing his arms, he lifted her up so that she was riding on his hips. Nola wrapped both her legs wrapped around him.

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**I'm going to be updating more regularly. I didn't get any comments from my last chapter (though I did get a bunch of favs &amp; follows). I live for your comments! Let me know what you like and want more of . . . I still haven't decided how this encounter between Nola and Daryl will finish ;). Thanks for reading!**


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